


What Could've Been

by itsallAvengers



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst, Bottom Tony Stark, Canon Divergence - Iron Man 2, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, Generally Angsty 'Im Going to die and I want to spend my last birthday with you' Feels, Hurt Tony Stark, M/M, Palladium Poisoning, Protective Steve Rogers, Sort Of, Steve is Like. The Most Service Top Dude you will ever meet lol, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Makes Bad Life Choice, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Top Steve Rogers, Yeah. Im going there, for the sake of plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 07:44:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17279915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsallAvengers/pseuds/itsallAvengers
Summary: So. Tony's dying. Palladium poisoning is a shitty, painful way to go, but hey: at least it's his birthday party, right? A cool send off. Lots of alcohol and fun and girls and-...And all Tony wants is Steve Rogers, the stupid Art Professor who used Tony for a booty call now and again and whom Tony had stupidly decided to start falling in love with. Whilst in the middle of getting slowly poisoned to death.God, he wished his life was easier.





	What Could've Been

**Author's Note:**

> Hmm. So I watched IM2 a few nights ago and this idea spawned. It's like.... pretty porny. BUT WITH ANGST AND TONY FEELS BECAUSE WHO AM I WITHOUT MY BRAND.
> 
> Basically this is an au where Tony is iron man, but steve has never been captain America. Instead, Steve is just a normal, run-of-the- mill art professor. And yes, Tony is still smitten with him anyway.
> 
> Ps ella if ur reading this. I can only apologise and say: Don't.

Tony stared at the numbers shown on the screen. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen them- although it was, admittedly, the first time he’d seen them so damn high- but still. For some reason, the reality of it hadn’t truly, properly been sinking in. Until now.

He was dying. In what was probably less than a few weeks, the Palladium in his chest would reach critical levels, and he would die. That was it. He’d done everything he could and it wasn’t enough.

He wasn’t sure quite why he’d been so arrogant, but he’d genuinely believed he might be able to find a solution. A way out. But he was out of time now, and Tony knew that the likelihood of survival was getting slimmer and slimmer. He’d prepared for this months in advance, of course. He’d sold all his shit, pushed his friends out as much as he could, so that maybe it wouldn’t hurt as much when his death finally did roll around, and he was planning on leaving his suit to the one person he could trust with it- Rhodey. Maybe he’d find a way to get it to him sooner- kill two birds with one stone and piss the guy off enough that he took it and got angry at Tony in the process.

He hadn’t known death would feel so lonely.

Swallowing down a lump in his throat, he glanced back up at his reflection, catching sight of one of the birthday cards that he’d placed up on his desk on the other side of the room. It sent something tightening in his heart; painful and raw. Of course, Steve had sent him a card. Even though Tony had pretty much ignored him for weeks, missed his calls and pretended as if he didn’t matter (when he did, he did _, oh God_ he did), Steve had taken the time to sit and make a home-made birthday card for Tony. And he was an artist, so it was beautiful. A beautiful, perfect drawing of Tony’s reactor, drawn from memory no doubt. Because Steve loved the stupid lump of metal in Tony’s chest. He had just been perfect like that.

Tony should have never started the whole stupid thing with him. Tony had known he was dying. He’d known and he’d done that to Steve anyway, because he was a fucking asshole.

The sound of heels clicking through the hall made him turn hurriedly, and he pushed the information off the screen and watched Natalie saunter through the doors, looking stunning as usual. “Do you know which watch you’d like to wear Mr Stark?” She asked evenly, and he blinked when he remembered what was about to happen imminently. The stupid birthday party that he didn’t want and didn’t care about. But hell- apparently he was going to take his partygoing-asshole image to the grave with him, because here he was, minutes away from launching the damn thing.

“I’ll take a look at ‘em,” he muttered absent-mindedly, shooting one last longing glance over to the card on his desk before turning to her. There was no point dwelling on anything now. It had already been done. Steve had only known him for a few months, anyway. Tony wouldn’t be missed when he was gone.

Natalie brought the watches over to him gracefully, and then sat far too close as she started to apply makeup to remove some of the bruising he’d gained over the past few days. He watched her slightly uncomfortably- Natalie was unreadable, and he really kind of hated that. He liked to pride himself on knowing people’s goals, their aims, their motives. Natalie… she only read blank.

Her fingers were gentle and cool against his face, and he thought back to the last time someone had touched him with that much care. Three weeks, four days ago. Steve’s index and middle fingers, just brushing across his forehead and moving the damp strands of hair out of his face with a butter-soft smile that Tony had wanted to fucking frame. He felt like he could remember each and every touch that man had given him, which was… dumb, really- Tony was nothing more than a flashy booty call to Steve, and he’d been perfectly okay with that. He hadn’t wanted anything serious anyway. He’d been dying, after all. No time.

But still. Steve- Steve had been kind. And beautiful. And in another world, maybe…

But it didn’t matter now.

“Can I ask you a question?” Tony blurted, running a finger along his brow bone- he was so tired, so fucking tired, the last thing he wanted to be doing right now was drinking his bodyweight in liquor. “Hypothetically- if this was the last birthday party you were ever gonna have… how would you celebrate it?”

Morbid curiosity, mostly. He’d never lived like normal people. Never had the chance, and now he never would. He wanted to know, maybe, if this was normal. If there were other options. Natalie just smiled and raised an eyebrow at him, silent for a moment as she pondered the question.

“I’d do whatever I wanted to do,” she said in the end, her voice quiet, “with whoever I wanted to do it with.”

Tony looked at her, feeling somewhat as if he’d just been punched in the gut. He wished he could. He wished that could be him. But what he wanted was probably asleep in Brooklyn, maybe grading some college papers or taking his dog for a late-night walk. He wasn’t thinking about Tony. He didn’t care, and Tony shouldn’t fucking expect him to. They’d fucked a few times, and then Tony had shoved him right out of his life without so much as a good-fucking-bye.

Tony watched her walk away and then downed his glass of martini, feeling the burn as it slid down his throat. There was no room for reminiscence or… or whatever it was he felt. He just needed to get drunk. Very, very drunk.

That’d make it better. It always did.

 

 

 

 

_

 

 

 

 

Okay, so admittedly, he _had_ gotten very very drunk. That part of the plan had been completed. He’d finished off another four martinis before even stepping down the stairs, and by the time he was five minutes into the party he was already well on his way to wasted. Everyone was laughing and shouting and screaming and singing his praises, and Tony was loving every second of it. Mostly.

Natalie’s words wouldn’t leave him alone, though. No matter how much he tried, no matter how much he drank.

This was the last birthday he would ever have. These were the last few _weeks_ he’d ever have. And he was spending it here? With these guys? Sure, Pepper and Rhodey were great, but they were still pissed at him for being, well, _him_ , and so they’d probably avoid him for the night, and Tony really couldn’t care less about anyone else there. The whole thing was just pointless, when he thought about it.

 

And that, essentially, was how he’d ended up getting into his suit twenty minutes into the party and rather bluntly bailing on the entire thing, setting his route for a small two-bedroom apartment in Brooklyn.

 

Steve had never been something Tony was expecting. That was the strangest part of the whole thing. Steve was… normal. Normal as anything- he was an art professor down at Brooklyn College, he had a dog called Dodger that he’d picked up from the pound, he often lived hand-to-mouth because teacher’s wages were pieces of shit, and Tony had met him in line for groceries at a WalMart. That was how normal it had all been. Tony hadn’t met him at an afterparty for a modelling agency, which was where Steve rightfully _belonged,_ Goddamnit, he was so so beautiful- hadn’t met him at the mile high club or picked him up doing a gig with Iron Man.

No. He’d found Steve whilst buying Kale and Omega 3 supplements, half delirious from lack of sleep and still wearing his pajama shirt.

Steve had been buying fabric cleaner, bread and some dishwasher tablets. He’d been a couple of dollars short in change, though, and so Tony had leaned forward and offered to pay the rest, because he was a good citizen and also, the view from behind had almost been as good as the view from the front. Steve had turned and said something about how there was no need, but then he’d clocked Tony’s face and the words had died in his throat.

“You sure?” He’d asked anyway, even though he’d absolutely recognised who Tony was, “it’s really okay, I can go without-“

“It’s two extra dollars, sweetheart, don’t fret about it,” Tony had responded with a smile, waving away his attempted rebuttal, “I think I’ve got a few bucks in my back pocket, just hang on.”

And Steve… Steve had smiled back at him. Real and genuine and beautiful, and for a second, Tony had just been left reeling. That had been the start, really. The start of the whole damn mess.

Because Steve lived a whole different life to Tony. He was normal and good, he had a dog and a steady job and Tony had no right to waltz in there and fuck that all up. So he’d told Steve on that first night, after getting his number in the middle of Walmart and going over to his apartment that same day in order to have some absolutely spectacular sex, that he didn’t do serious relationships. He _hadn’t_ said anything about it being a one time offer, because Steve was… well, Steve was quite possibly the most attractive person Tony had ever met in his life, and he’d touched Tony like no one else. Like he genuinely, seriously cared. And Tony… he’d been needing a bit of that. So he’d kept the offer open, let Steve keep his number, and told him to call if he ever wanted to do this again.

Steve had agreed with a nod and a smile, and then he’d gone to town on Tony’s dick and given what had to be the best head of his life.

When Tony had left the next day, he’d expected Steve not to call. Few people ever really did- Tony Stark for one night was fun, but unless they wanted his money or his brains, they didn’t tend to stick around for long. But a week or so later, Steve popped up again- texting a picture of one of his student’s work to him and then saying ‘she told me this was inspired by Iron Man’s arc reactor- what grade would you give her?’

Tony, of course, had responded with ‘A** Obviously’, and then he and Steve had chatted for a good hour or so, before Steve eventually invited Tony around to his place again for round 2.

Everything had spiralled from there, really.

Tony had known, of course. He’d known the first moment he’d set eyes on Steve that there was no way he should ever let himself get close to a man like that- not when Tony was in the state that he was. He’d known as soon as Steve had kissed him that it would only end badly. He could never seem to fucking stop being self destructive, though, because every time Steve hit him up Tony had just continued to go back, staying longer, talking more, before he’d sometimes just call Steve to _talk_ , not even for phone sex. They’d become friends as well as just two people who fucked. Worse than that; Tony had actually found himself beginning to wait anxiously for Steve to call or text. He’d started to daydream about Steve, his mouth and his hands and his smile and how good he felt when he was inside Tony. How much he _cared_. How sweet his laugh was. The way he touched Tony as if he mattered. Tony asked him about his work and the students he taught, finding himself genuinely interested in the answer, and he could recite all of Steve’s favourite things off-by-heart after a particular conversation they’d had which had stretched out into the early hours of the morning.

Within three months, Tony knew that he had fallen in love with the guy.

And that was also when he knew he had to cut Steve off.

Because Tony was fucking dying, he was a fucking mess, and all that he was to Steve was a fuck buddy. Probably not even that- Steve seemed like the type of person who made special breakfast pancakes for all his booty calls. The guy was just genuine like that. Anyway- what Tony was trying to say, was that getting into it any further with Steve and then suddenly dying out of nowhere would only fuck him up, and it was the last thing Tony wanted. Steve had a perfectly happy life without Tony, and in reality, he’d known that he wouldn’t be missed that much if he just stopped talking to Steve.

It had been for the best. Tony had told himself that repeatedly when Steve had called, texted, called again. And eventually, Steve had stopped. As Tony had known he would.

It had been for the best.

 

So really, it kind of begged the question as to what Tony was currently doing, flying across New York whilst heavily drunk, heading to Steve’s place in order to- to what? Proclaim his love? Bullshit. Steve wouldn’t want that. At best, Tony would get some rough, angry, why-the-fuck-did-you-act-like-an-asshole-and-ignore-me sex. At worst, he’d get thrown right back out onto the street again. Which was fair enough. Tony would hate himself too.

But then Natalie’s words just kept fucking ringing in his ears, and Tony just couldn’t quite find the strength in himself to turn around.

He wanted Steve.

 

The man’s apartment was near the top of the building, and Tony parked his suit at the foot of the fire escape before messily making his way up the stairs. It was raining, of course, giving him the look of a drunk and drowning rat as he made his way to number 432, but honestly, he was past caring. If Steve kicked him out- well, that’d just be a sign, wouldn’t it? He’d go back home, go back to the party, and do what Stark’s did best: drink until nothing mattered.

The door loomed up ahead of him, and without hesitation Tony banged at it with a blunt fist, uncoordinated and messy as he leaned against the wall and waited. He hoped Steve was in. It’d be a tad anticlimactic if he was actually walking Dodger, or at Bucky’s, or… at someone else’s place, which was probably likely- Steve looked like a god and had a sex-drive to match, so it would be no surprise if he-

The door swung open, and Steve’s eyes locked with Tony’s from his corridor.

There was a short silence where Steve just gaped at him. Tony stared back; realising he probably looked ridiculous, standing out in the rain in nothing but a dress shirt. He smiled weakly. “Hey.”

“Tony,” Steve began, voice blank, “what- what are you doing here? I thought…”

“That I was a piece of shit who left with no explanation why?” Tony finished- and when Steve just shrugged and nodded, looking away, Tony felt the shame curl in his gut. He’d never meant to hurt Steve. But it was all he was good at.

“It’s been two months,” Steve told him quietly, “you didn’t answer… I just thought you were. You know. Done.” He looked up at Tony and then frowned, leaning forward a little as he took the man in. “Are you okay?” He asked. “You look ill, Tony.”

 _I’m dying,_ Tony thought as he bit down on a hysterical giggle, _I’m dying and for some reason, you’re the person I want to spend my last birthday with._

“Fuck me,” Tony blurted instead, because his brain wasn’t wired to be anything other than _fucking stupid._

Steve blinked at him. “Excuse me?”

In reply, Tony stumbled forward and into his arms. Steve, of course, caught him steadily, his hands so strong and massive and _safe_. With a grin, Tony leaned up and kissed him, a hand going to the back of Steve’s neck as he licked into Steve’s beautiful mouth. “I said fuck me,” he repeated, “fuck me hard and good, for my birthday, huh? How about it?”

Steve broke away, stepping backward. His face looked… hurt. “No,” he said- and Tony stopped, the smile slipping off.

“No,” he parroted, voice going numb, “I… why?”

 _“Why?”_ Steve asked, his tone a little incredulous as he snorted, “because you ignored me for two months, and then when you come back I don’t even get a reason? Just a ‘fuck me’?”

Steve’s arms were folded, the lines of his body harsh, unforgiving. Whatever hope Tony had had in his chest simmered out. He really was his own worst enemy. Steve… of course Steve wouldn’t want to fuck him. Tony was just some rich slut who’d loved and left him without so much as a goodbye- Steve didn’t owe him jack shit. If Tony had been a better person, he would never have showed up in the first place.

Tony looked down. “Sorry,” he muttered, “yeah, I- I’m not really… my head’s all over the place right now. Not that that’s- it’s a shitty excuse. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed this on you, it’s late. You probably have papers to grade.” He shot Steve a weak smile and then stepped back over the threshold, feeling as the rain started to spatter against the back of his neck once more.

But Steve extended a hand, and it curled around Tony’s forearm gently. Tony glanced down at it in surprise, and then looked up to the other man. His eyes were worried.

“Tony,” he said, his voice going softer, “you look really bad.”

Tony laughed. “Well thanks, sweetheart.“

“No, I mean-“ Steve frowned and shook his head before sighing and tugging Tony in a little bit, back into his corridor. He leaned forward and grabbed the door handle, shutting it firmly. Tony jumped in surprise and looked up, feeling Steve’s proximity acutely. “You’re not well, are you?” The man asked, his voice soft. Worried.

Goddamn it. This wasn’t what Tony had come here for. He refused to burden Steve with any more of his bullshit.

So instead, he just shrugged. “Good as I’ll ever be,” he said nonchalantly, “but seriously- if you’re busy, which you probably are- I can just go. I have a party… should probably not have left that, if I’m being honest-“

“I don’t have anything on tonight,” Steve said, before cocking his head, “wait- did you say you had a party? Did you… leave that to come here?”

Wow. Real great job at hiding your stupid crush, Stark. “Can you blame me? They’re all very loud and touchy, and you…” he sighed, leaning against the wall. His head was spinning a little. “Well- you’re you,” he finished weakly.

Steve was quiet for a moment, just looking at him with those folded arms, his expression concerned. Tony shuffled under his gaze, feeling like an exposed wound.

Then Steve stepped forward and curled his hand around the small of Tony’s back, pushing him further down the corridor. “Come into the kitchen,” he murmured, “let’s get you a glass of water. Maybe some toast, too.”

Tony opened his mouth to argue that he was okay, really, he didn’t need any special care- but Steve was already guiding him, his palm a warm and comforting pressure against his back. Tony let himself be led, taking advantage of the close proximity and leaning into Steve’s side, just a little. He was so warm. Soft. And Tony was so, so tired.

Steve led them into his little kitchen and pulled out a chair, setting Tony down in it. He was quiet as he set the bread into the toaster and got Tony his glass of water, and Tony didn’t know what to say either. He’d expected to come in and only have a dick in his mouth, not a glass of water and some wholesome food. This had not been part of the plan.

He’d never fucking wanted Steve Rogers to care about him.

Steve set the plate of delicious-smelling toast down in front of him a minute later, and Tony smiled as he took it. “Thanks,” he mumbled, “you really didn’t need to.”

“When was the last time you ate?” Steve asked- because he knew, somehow, of Tony’s habits.

Tony just shrugged vaguely. “Sometime today,” he replied, and then grinned when Steve sighed, “hey, I’ve been busy. Lots of presents to unwrap from my admiring fans. I have so much shit I don’t even know what to do with it, now.” He bit into a slice of buttery toast and then let his eyes fall upon some of the drawing pencils strewn over Steve’s coffee table. Blues and whites and blacks, mostly. Like the colour of the arc reactor. “Thank you for the card, by the way,” he said, his voice turning strangely hoarse as he looked at his hands, “it was… it was beautiful.”

Steve snorted. “Not really much compared to the million gifts you received from all those adoring fans, I guess,” he muttered as he turned to the counter and then fiddled with the dishes by the sink.

“No,” Tony said, looking over his shoulder with a deep frown, “no, it was way more than any of that shit. It… I think it was the nicest thing I got.”

Steve paused, and Tony looked back down to his glass before the man could turn and see whatever dumb look he was probably sporting on his face. He shouldn’t have said that. He shouldn’t have said anything- God, what was he even doing here in the first place? He was making everything worse. Now Steve was worried, because he _always_ fucking worried, about everyone and anyone he goddamn could-

His thoughts ground to a sudden halt when he felt a gentle hand press down on his shoulder, thumb stroking lightly up his neck. Tony’s breath caught and stuttered to a halt, and then when Steve leaned down and pressed his mouth onto the other side of his throat, his eyes fluttered shut of their own accord. Steve felt so good.

Slowly, gently, Steve kissed up his neck, and Tony tilted his head to the side to allow him more workroom, feeling his heartbeat thrum up a few paces. It wasn’t even particularly dirty- Steve’s touch seemed more soothing than anything, like he was trying to kiss all of Tony’s woes better. His thumb still stroked against the other side of Tony’s neck, and God, it just felt so nice to be touched. Tony hadn’t realised how much he’d missed it.

“What’s wrong,” Steve whispered against Tony’s neck, pausing briefly and tilting back, looking Tony in the eye. “I know that there’s something, Tony. Please. Let me try and help.”

Tony wanted to laugh. God, every time Steve spoke Tony just fell more in love with him. He was so fucking perfect, and good. Tony had treated him as if he didn’t even exist for two months, and here Steve was, still offering to help.

Tony shut his eyes as he leaned in, mouth locking with Steve’s once more. Tasting him felt like coming home after a long day, which was so fucking stupid. It was just the product of all his abandonment issues and the fact that the crowds he ran in were usually less than pleasant. Tony didn’t know how to act when someone genuinely nice came along, so his brain went into Oxytocin overdrive and tried to make him fall in love. But even when he knew all those things, it absolutely did not stop the butterflies in his stomach when Steve returned the kiss, his hand moving up to cradle Tony’s jaw.

Tony curled his hands around Steve’s wrists as he licked slowly into Steve’s mouth, starting at the seam of his lips and then tracing his teeth. Steve hummed in pleasure and leaned further forward, getting in Tony’s space on the table. “You can help like this,” Tony muttered against his mouth, pressing small kisses into each word, “you can help just by… just being here.”

Steve paused briefly, looking down at him. His hair fell in messy strands across his face, slightly longer than normal- and Tony’s fingers rose, absently tucking it behind his ear. The action made Steve’s face soften as he leaned up, kissed Tony’s forehead and let his mouth linger.

“Are you feeling my temperature,” Tony murmured in amusement, and Steve huffed.

“Maybe,” he admitted softly, moving to kiss across Tony’s temple, his cheek, jawbone, nose. Tony sat there with his eyes shut, revelling in the attention as his fingers flexed against Steve’s wrists and stroked lines across his smooth skin. A few seconds later, when every second of Tony’s face had been covered in small kisses, Steve finally paused, his lips lingering close to Tony’s shut eyes. “I missed you,” he whispered.

Tony smiled. Even when it probably only translated to ‘I missed having sex with you’, the sentiment was still sweet. “I missed you too,” he responded, which was brutally true. Tony really, really had.

Steve dropped a little further, crouching to his haunches as he braced his arms against the chair Tony was sat on and then kissed his mouth again, a little harder this time. More reason to it. Tony murmured his agreement and felt himself melt underneath the other man, hands slipping off Steve’s wrists, tracing up his arms and over his delicious shoulders before curling around his jaw, tugging him in closer, closer. It never felt like enough; he wanted Steve as near to him as he could get. That was the only time he ever really felt whole, these days.

God, he was fucking pathetic.

Steve pressed in harder, obviously feeling the same way as their actions quickly became dirtier, mouths opening messily as Steve dominated the kiss and gave Tony no room for argument. His tongue licked into Tony’s mouth, teeth biting at his bottom lip and tugging. It brought a small whimper out of Tony’s mouth and God, he loved Steve like this. Hard and controlling, taking whatever the fuck he wanted. Tony just wanted to give him whatever he could, while he could. And when Steve felt good, Tony felt good too.

“Come on,” Steve mumbled a second later, standing suddenly and sliding his hand into Tony’s to pull him up, “my room. Now.”

“Sir yes sir,” Tony said with a grin as he let Steve tug him across the living room and into the bedroom on the other side of the apartment. Tony walked ahead, but as his hand went to the door he felt Steve take his hip and twist, turning him around so he was chest to chest with the taller man. Steve wasted no time; simply leaned down and picked him up, his hands grabbing Tony’s ass and grinding him down against Steve’s hard cock. Tony had almost forgotten how incredibly strong Steve was. And God, it was the hottest thing in the world. Tony moaned without even meaning to, lips going to Steve’s ear and kissing, licking, tugging at the shell. “Oh God,” he whispered, “oh… fuck.”

Steve huffed out a half-laugh and grabbed randomly for his door handle, shoving it open haphazardly and then stumbling in, mouth still connected to Tony’s. They moved backward and backward until Steve’s legs hit the back of the bed and he fell, twisting at the last second so that Tony was pinned under him, his hands an unyielding pressure against Tony’s wrists. He felt so fucking good, on top of Tony like that, his leg jammed between Tony’s thighs and grinding down across his dick, and Tony sucked in a sharp breath, eyelids fluttering in pleasure. Steve always knew exactly how to make Tony feel amazing.

“Jesus, don’t think there’s anything more beautiful than seeing you here,” Steve muttered as he sucked bruising kisses under Tony’s jaw, down the line of his throat, “on my bed, in your fancy suits. Can’t wait to strip you off, spread you open and fuck you senseless though. That’s an even better look on you.”

Tony gasped and took Steve’s face in his hands, pulling him up for a harsh kiss. He was already achingly hard, and he could feel that Steve quite clearly was too. They would make it good, this last time. Tony would make sure of it. “Then put your money where your mouth is, soldier,” he responded teasingly, and then sucked in another sharp breath of air when Steve just grinned salaciously, sliding downward fast and then mouthing against Tony’s cock through his slacks.

“I intend to,” Steve told him- and God, Tony was going to miss this.

His legs jerked and his head thumped against the mattress, feeling the tug of material against his sensitive skin as Steve very lightly grazed his teeth across the tenting in Tony’s pants- the bastard was always such a fucking tease, and it drove Tony mad every time. He gripped Steve’s hair and tugged, pulling Steve back up again and then getting frantic hands around his shirt, tugging wildly. Steve helped him get it off, and a few seconds later he was stretched out across Tony in all his shirtless glory.

“Fuck,” Tony said hoarsely, “fuck, do you have any idea what you- what you do to me?”

Steve’s face softened and turned into something Tony could easily mistake for a loving look- but then his hands settled down against the buttons of Tony’s shirt, intending to return the favour, and suddenly Tony was brought back to the reality of the situation and he clamped a hand around Steve’s wrist, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“My shirt can stay on, tonight,” he said with a nod- and Steve sat back, frowning.

“What? Why?”

“It just has to,” Tony gritted- because if it didn’t, Steve would see the Palladium lines all over his chest. He’d ask questions that Tony didn’t want to answer.

Steve’s face fell, and his hand traced lightly over the light at the centre of Tony’s chest. “But I want to see you,” he murmured quietly.

Tony needed to say no. He intended to say no. He really should have said no. But Steve’s face was so earnest. Tony only wanted to give him what he wanted. More than anything else in that moment, he wanted Steve to have that.

“Promise you won’t say anything about it,” Tony said, sitting up on his elbows a little and looking up at Steve.

The man stared back, concern rife all over his face once more. “Tony, Jesus, what’s so bad that you have to-“

“Just promise me, Steve,” Tony interrupted with a sigh, running his hand across his face. He didn’t want the argument over this, of all things. He just…  
He just wanted Steve.

After another few seconds of intense staring, Steve just clenched his jaw and nodded. “Okay,” he conceded, “alright. No questions.” His hands went back to their original place against Tony’s collar and, almost apprehensively this time around, he slipped each button off, revealing his chest. Tony couldn’t help but watch Steve’s face, and the way it changed from nervousness to concern, to flat out horror as he got lower and lower down and saw how far the dark criss-crossing lines went. He opened his mouth, apparently unable to help himself from asking something- but before he could say a damn thing, Tony surged up and kissed the words off his lips, hand curling into Steve’s hair and gripping tight enough to hurt. “Just kiss me,” he slurred desperately, tracing the roof of Steve’s mouth with his tongue, “just kiss me and forget about it.”

When he pulled back for a second, Steve’s expression looked close to outright heartbroken. His hand settled, tentative and gentle against Tony’s chest, smoothing across his pecs, landing on the cool glass of the reactor. But he kept to his word. He didn’t say anything. Merely looked back up and then joined their mouths together once more, kissing him almost reverently. “I’ve got you,” he murmured, hands tightening into Tony’s waist, “I’ve got you, sweetheart.”

Tony nodded, a stupid whimper falling out of his mouth at the simple words. Maybe his life was falling apart, maybe he was fucking dying and everyone he knew was leaving- but for now, in this moment, Steve had him. For now, Tony was cared for.

After that, Steve’s actions stopped being so rough. It was like he couldn’t help himself- and a part of Tony wanted to be angry that Steve was treating Tony as if he was fragile, but the other part… the other part was just happy to let go, to be looked after. It wasn’t exactly as if Tony looked after _himself_ , and seeing as he’d been a shithead to everyone else he considered close to him, they weren’t doing it either, so.

So this was it, for Tony. This was when he could pretend- pretend as if Steve liked him for more than just sex, that he still had a whole life he could lead, that he wasn’t about to die at 43 as a drunken, stupid mess who’d never properly gotten to wipe his ledger clean.

He blinked back the sudden hotness behind his eyes and then palmed against Steve’s cock, hearing the man’s breath stutter in surprise. He wasn’t here to dump all his emotional baggage on Steve. He was here for one specific thing.

“Come on, soldier,” he whispered, trailing messy kisses from Steve’s mouth to his stomach and back, “fuck me like you mean it.”

Steve shuddered, grabbing Tony’s shoulders and then shoving him back down onto his back, fingers effortlessly working Tony’s trousers off. After a bit of manoeuvring, they came off entirely, and Steve worked on his own sweatpants with swift efficiency until finally both of them were naked. Tony took a moment to drink Steve in, burning it all into his memory. Steve was, without question, the closest that Tony would ever get to any God or religion. He could worship Steve’s beautiful body for the rest of his admittedly short life. He’d do that happily.

Steve, apparently, was doing the same. Despite the ugly Palladium traintracks that zigzagged all across Tony’s chest and midsection, Steve still seemed to be finding the sight enjoyable. He sat up against Tony’s hips, fingers tracing across sensitive skin. “Shit, look at you,” he muttered, “so perfect. Pretty and perfect and mine.”

God, Tony wished. In another life. He wished he could have been Steve’s. “Mmm,” he shut his eyes and then felt Steve’s hand slip lower, down his abs, hips, and then finally landing at the base of Tony’s cock. The simple touch made him buck a little, and Tony bit his lip to stop from whining again. Steve, however, leaned over him, his kisses hot and messy before his thumb tugged Tony’s mouth open. On autopilot, Tony let it slip inside and sucked on it, tongue swirling around the joint whilst his gaze locked onto the way Steve’s throat worked and the man’s eyes stared almost hypnotized at the sight. A moment later, Steve pulled it out again, tapping once on Tony’s bottom lip as he smiled.

“Keep that pretty mouth open, please,” Steve breathed out, “wanna hear you.”

Tony nodded. “Kay,” he slurred, already feeling more drunk on Steve’s touch than he had on the four Martini’s. A second later, Steve’s mouth lowered and bit down against his neck, sucking hard and sudden. Tony gasped, hips bucking up into Steve’s hand, and the dual sensation of Steve’s mouth against his neck and his hand working at Tony’s cock was like heaven. He had a very sensitive neck, and Steve knew that. He knew that very well, and so he always liked to give it a special bit of attention. He looked up at Tony and Tony smiled back, watching avidly as Steve licked a strip up Tony’s throat, stopping at his chin and then leaning up to pop a kiss onto Tony’s mouth before his hand began to move slowly up and down. They were so big and warm, and Tony felt the pleasure coil up inside him like a lightning bolt, shooting up his spine. Tony rolled his hips against Steve’s, heard the groan that told him he’d brushed up against Steve’s own erection, and then grinned.

He could make this good for Steve. He could make this very, very good for Steve.

“I’m already prepped,” Tony said casually, feeling the way Steve stilled atop him, “so whenever you’re ready we can get this show on the road, darling.”

Steve’s hand slid off his dick, tracing around the swell of Tony’s ass before feeling for himself. “When did you do that?” He asked, eyes blown wide and his mouth spit-slicked as Tony gazed up at him.

“Just before the party I was supposedly gonna be attending,” Tony told him smoothly, “figured if everyone was going to be as drunk as they intended, it’d be better to do it myself rather than risk a shoddy job, you know?”

Steve’s head cocked as he slipped a finger in, the pressure igniting something hot and desperate under Tony’s sternum. _“I_ wouldn’t ever be shoddy with you,” he muttered, sounding almost sullen.

Tony couldn’t help but laugh, even as Steve crooked his finger and brushed up against the part inside Tony that sent every one of his senses into fucking overdrive. “Of course _you_ wouldn’t,” he drawled breathlessly, head rolling against the pillows, “but the rest of the world isn’t like you, Rogers.”

Steve frowned, kissing him gently. “If anyone is ever anything less than perfect with you,” he said determinedly, “I want their name and address.”

Tony looked up at him and Steve looked back, his gaze so painfully soft. He really meant that- that was the most damning thing. There were… so few people in Tony’s world who cared in that way. And Steve was, for some stupid fucking reason, one of them.

And after tonight, Tony was going to have to hurt him all over again. Because life just wasn’t fucking fair. And Tony wasn’t half of the man Steve somehow seemed to believe he was.

He pursed his lips and looked away, grinding down against Steve’s finger. “Come on,” he said impatiently, “come on, Steve, I’m ready.” He didn’t want to focus on anything after this- for now, it was only the present moment that mattered. Steve’s finger slipped out easily, and it wasn’t half as big as his dick, no, but still large enough to be missed when it left him. Tony shivered and reached for Steve’s biceps, curling his hand around them and gripping on tight as Steve slowly leaned back, took Tony’s legs and spread them further apart. The look on his face was damn near reverent, and for a moment Tony just let himself imagine. Think of what it would have been like, if he’d just met Steve earlier. Maybe they could have made something work. Steve was a simple guy- he didn’t even want Tony’s money or anything. Tony could have made him happy.

He wanted more time. Oh God, he just wanted a little more time.

Tony wrapped his hand around the back of Steve’s neck and dragged him in for a heavy kiss, his tongue exploring Steve’s mouth, knowing it was probably the last time he’d be able to do so. He caught Steve’s moan and rolled his hips up, brushing against Steve’s hot length. Steve bucked into the touch, his skin fiery across Tony’s as his hands clenched down into Tony’s thighs in a bruising grip. Good. He wanted Steve’s marks all over him.

“M’gonna make you feel good,” Steve muttered as he leaned over Tony, hands slipping off his legs and moving to brace them on each side of Tony’s face. He leaned into pressup position (Jesus fucking _Christ_ he was so strong) and kissed Tony, making it soft and gentle this time as opposed to the previous hot, messy ones. “I promise, you just sit back. S’okay. I’ve got this.”

Tony swallowed and nodded, feeling Steve drop back again, getting into position. His head ducked low into the juncture of Tony’s neck, tongue tracing the mark he’d made with his teeth earlier as he slid in slowly, steadily, filling Tony up until he hit base and sent a sharp, beautiful rush through Tony’s body. He spasmed and felt his fingers flex hard against Steve’s arms, a breathy moan escaping him. “Fuck,” he cursed, “fuck, Steve.”

Steve smiled against Tony’s neck and kissed him, feather-light. “Hold onto something, sweetheart,” he chuckled- and then Tony gasped in shock as Steve moved forward quickly, sending both of them slipping across the bed. It took a few thrusts from Steve before he hit the mark again, and when he did, white exploded in Tony’s vision and his mouth dropped open in a silent gasp. He wanted to cuss a blue streak, and laugh, and say something to Steve about love which they would both only regret later. Steve’s moves were slow, but long and deep and fucking good, and Tony’s hands slipped off Steve’s slick skin, the top half of his body dropping into the mattress as his senses were assaulted with pleasure. Steve always knew exactly what to do, where to touch, what to say to get him off. It’s like they’d been doing this for years, as opposed to months.

Above him, Steve’s breathing was becoming more and more ragged as he moved, and Tony grinned before tightening, clenching down and grinding deep against Steve’s dick. The man groaned obscenely, hands tightening against the pillows under Tony’s neck as his pace sped up, more frantic and desperate. He shifted to the left and then moved his arm, dropping it down until it circled Tony’s cock. Lube-slicked fingers traced over him softly and Tony swallowed back the urge to whimper, to beg, to talk Steve through every little thing like the way he usually did. He couldn’t trust what his mouth might say this time. He just had to let his body say the things that he never could.

He kept the rhythm going with Steve, leaning up again and grazing his teeth across Steve’s chest, licking and sucking a dozen marks into the man’s perfect skin. Steve’s thrusts were getting more and more erratic and Tony knew he was close, could sense it in the way he moved, how his body grew tenser and shakier. Tony paused, leaning back, lifting his hand and then resting it against Steve’s cheek. He couldn’t help himself. “You’re so beautiful,” he muttered almost unintelligibly- but Steve heard it anyway, because he slowed down a little and then caught Tony’s eye, turning his face into Tony’s hand and kissing his palm delicately.

“You should see yourself,” Steve mumbled, his dextrous fingers stroking lazily over Tony’s cock, the fucking tease, “so good for me. Pretty as a picture, lying there like that, desperate and open and gorgeous. Love it. Love y- your body.”

Tony chuckled, head dropping back as Steve raised his knee to find a better angle and then pushed in hard and fast, hitting Tony’s prostate in a continuous motion. His hands scrabbled at the sheets again, wanting to find purchase somewhere. He felt off kilter, like he was hurtling through the atmosphere in the Iron Man suit- but that was always how Steve made him feel. Like he was falling and flying at the same time. His lips moved, muttering Steve’s name over and over and over again. It was the only thing he knew how to say. Only thing he _wanted_ to say.

Steve looked down at him for another second, and then suddenly Tony felt his hands move, sitting up and sliding his arms under Tony’s back, taking Tony with him. He gasped at the change, body going pliant in Steve’s grip as the man held him up in strong arms, let Tony’s head rest into Steve’s neck. He was now sat on Steve’s lap, held up mostly just by Steve’s hold on his back. Every nerve felt like it was on fire and he was seconds away from coming, but a part of him didn’t want to. When he came, it’d be over. Then he’d have to leave again. And he didn’t want to leave. He… he wanted to stay with Steve. Fuck the company, fuck the board members, fuck everyone who only ever wanted specific things from him and never the whole package that was Tony Stark- he didn’t care about any of it. Couldn’t give less of a shit. For once, he just wanted to the chance to be happy. Truly, properly happy- not the shallow fake shit that Tony had been playing with his whole life.

He shut his eyes and buried his head further into Steve’s neck, taking a small breath. _Compose yourself, idiot,_ he cursed as he licked messily across Steve’s jugular, breathed him in, _this isn’t the time to reminisce. You lost your chance. You’re dying anyway. Just enjoy what you have here._

Steve paused and raised a hand, taking Tony’s neck and pulling him back lightly. Any moment now, Steve would get his hands under Tony’s ass and lift him easily before shoving him back down and filling Tony up with his beautiful cock, finish them both off, and it would be amazingly good, because it always was- but for some reason, Steve seemed to be holding off. He waited until Tony was looking at him, their breathing intermingling as Steve’s nose brushed Tony’s, and then slid his hand tentatively up his own shoulder, pulling Tony’s hand down and tucking their fingers together. Tony squeezed back, thumb stroking the soft, sweat-slicked skin and smiled at Steve, opening his mouth to say something.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” Steve breathed out first- and Tony’s heart sank as he shut his eyes.

God fuckin dammit. “No, Steve-“

 _“Please,”_ Steve’s voice got a little louder, more desperate as he looked up at Tony with his huge, scared eyes. “Please, Tony, I’m worried. More than worried. You’re _ill_. You’re scaring me and I want to know-“

“-Well we don’t always get what we fucking want, do we Steve,” Tony said a little harshly, hands clenching hard against Steve’s shoulders as he lifted onto his knees and then slammed down again, drawing Steve’s mouth into a bruising kiss as the man gasped. He bit against Steve’s lip and tugged, suddenly feeling like there just wasn’t enough air in the room. “You just gotta learn to deal with it, okay? We’re just sex. I don’t owe you shit.”

Steve stopped moving entirely, pulling away and looking at Tony numbly for a few seconds. Tony stared back- he _wasn’t_ going to give in to the urge to apologise and say that was a complete fucking lie, because Steve needed… he needed the closure. Now. Before Tony crawled off to die on his own.

It would be better for him, in the long run.

Steve looked down at their joined hands for a second, before he blinked and then looked up. Surprisingly, he leaned in and kissed Tony again- not even roughly. Just… soft. “You and me both know we’re not,” he said simply- and God, there was no way that Tony could even argue. He couldn’t. The proof was right there- in every touch, in every smile. You didn’t act like this around someone you just used for sex, and Tony was kidding himself if he thought Steve would ever believe that.

His pursed his mouth and looked away. He was disastrously close to tears- the emotions and hormones running through his system hardly doing anything help abate that sensation. “Just…” Tony began, drooping low and letting his forehead rest against Steve’s shoulder. “Just, please. Make love to me, Steve. I don’t want to talk about it. Not now.”

Steve didn’t say anything; his fingers merely stroking softly across Tony’s face, through into the back of his hair. His touch was like a balm, abating the constant headache that seemed to thrum for every minute of the day, and Tony sunk into it easily, sighing at the soothing motion of Steve’s fingers working through the little tangles at the back of his head.

“Okay,” Steve murmured, knocking their foreheads together softly as his hands finally dropped, curling under Tony’s ass, “alright. I’ve got you, sweetheart.”

Tony sighed in both relief and anguish, feeling it as Steve lifted Tony up with strong hands and then brought him back down again, keeping him pressed close as they moved. His mouth trailed messily across the Palladium cross-hatches over Tony’s chest, marking them out with worry lines marring his face as he moved. Tony let gravity do most of the work, rolling his body messily into Steve’s every now and then as he felt the friction of Steve’s abs across his sensitive cock. It was far less urgent than what he’d been expecting when he’d arrived there that evening- he’d thought he would be a hell of a lot more desperate for something wild and frenetic, longing to get himself off as fast and as many times as he could. But this… this was nicer. Tony found he wanted it more; the slow, steady strokes, the way Steve drew him closer to the edge with each movement, but chose to keep him there instead of tipping him over. It was like heaven, and Tony felt his eyes rolling shut, head falling back in bliss as Steve worked him thoroughly.

A big hand rested gently at the base of his neck, keeping his head from falling back entirely, and Steve moved up to kiss his throat with soft lips, the change in angle hitting Tony just right. He gasped, shuddered wildly- a whole bodied thing- and then suddenly found himself losing control completely, coming over both their stomachs with a choked off gasp. His ears rang and his vision whited, and for a moment there was nothing else he could feel except Steve.

“S’okay,” Steve said breathlessly through the haze, voice cutting through the gasps that Tony realized had to be his own, “you’re good, so good, God, I love you, love you, you’re perfect,” Steve’s voice was barely even above a whisper as he drew Tony’s head in with his hand, kissed him sloppy and wet, and Tony could barely hear a damn thing, wasn’t even sure he was entirely coherent- he slumped into Steve’s arms and sighed, letting the other man work and use him as he pleased. The grip of the hand against his ass tightened, pushed up higher and dropped him heavier, and Tony felt each shock like a wave of pleasure forcing hiccups of air to slip through his open mouth. He was exhausted- a product of the Palladium, no doubt- and Steve was holding him like something so precious, so valuable. He sighed, tipping his head into Steve’s and sucking tiredly at his neck, his hand pressing into Steve’s chest and flattening out over the man’s heartbeat.

Steve’s breathing was loud, eyes clenched shut and teeth biting into his own lip as he moved Tony up and down on his cock, but his touch remained gentle even as he became more desperate with need. He was faultless. And kind. And Tony was so, so undeserving of him.

“What I’d give,” Tony slurred, mouth moving to his ear so that Steve could actually hear him, “to stay here forever. You have… no idea.”

Steve swallowed and his hand moved to cup Tony’s face, big enough that it pretty much encompassed the entirety of his left side. He stroked his thumb across Tony’s gaunt cheek, settling on his bottom lip. Tony watched him for a moment, before leaning down and gently kissing the finger-pad that rested against his lip.

Steve’s whole body tensed, and a second later Tony felt him come with a deep, low groan.

Tony watched with a smile, pushing Steve’s sweaty hair away from his forehead and then stroking his fingers around the perimeter of Steve’s face, tracing the sharp jawline, following each little divot and dent with his fingertips to try and burn it all to memory. This; the sight of college-professor, dog-walker, horrible-soya-milk-drinker Steve Rogers, falling apart for Tony… it was better than any stupid fucking party he could have been at.

It was better than pretty much everything.

After that, he was pretty sure he clocked out for a little in Steve’s arms, the lethargy of their workout hitting him hard after the delight of his orgasm. Steve gently slid out, laying him back on his bed and then slipping off and turning in the direction of the bathroom. Tony drifted easily, tucking his face into Steve’s pillow and breathing in the smell of him. He didn’t want to think about the fact this was probably going to be the last time he’d see Steve. But hell- what a nice send off, huh? At the very least, Tony could keep that with him.

When Steve came back, it was with a warm washcloth. He sat on the bed next to Tony and then gently rolled him over, cleaning up the mess with gentle, attentive fingers. Tony hummed when Steve swiped quickly at his forehead- the touch was better than drugs, Tony could swear it.

He heard the sound of the cloth being thrown carelessly into the washbasket on the other side of the room, and a few seconds later a gentle pair of hands curled delicately under his back, lifting him up and tugging the sheets of the bed down. Steve was saying things that Tony couldn’t really hear properly, muffled by the sounds of movement around him. He felt warmth encompass him as Steve curled his arms gently around Tony’s back, one hand coming to settle against the arc reactor that glowed in his chest.

He realised he was still here, and it was probably bad. He needed to go. To leave, before Steve made him breakfast and looked after him some more.

But… but the bed was so warm, and Steve was so warm, and his hands settled against Tony’s bare hips like they belonged there. Tony didn’t _want_ to leave. He wanted to curl into Steve and settle there, let the whole world slip away. He was scared of the imminent future, of what was going to happen to him. But Steve didn’t make him feel scared. Steve just made him feel like he was home.

His body thrummed as he turned gently on his hips and nestled his head into Steve’s collar, hands going around and settling loosely around Steve’s waist. In response, a small kiss was pressed into his hair.

His phone was probably blowing up. Pepper, Rhodey, all the people he’d invited to his dumb party- all of them asking where he was. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say when he got back there. Maybe just tell them he’d lost track of time in the workshop or something. Except he looked like he’d been pretty thoroughly fucked, and the amount of hickeys that Steve had sucked into his neck would definitely give the game away. Say he’d gotten caught up in a threesome with some Victoria’s Secret Angels, maybe? No. It felt… dirty, to brush off tonight with something as shallow as that.

Maybe he just wouldn’t turn up. Maybe he’d just… go home, and talk to JARVIS, and play with DUM-E for a little while. Maybe he could do that.

It was his last birthday, after all. He supposed he had the right to do whatever the fuck he wanted.

“Why did you go,” Steve murmured into his forehead, looking down at Tony with his sad, sad eyes, “I thought you’d gotten bored of me.”

For a second, the Palladium running through his system wasn’t even the most painful thing he felt. He couldn’t bear to look at Steve like that, so instead he dropped his gaze, swallowed and then wrapped his fingers gently through Steve’s own.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he whispered back, biting his lip, “I’m sorry. Steve. I… I just- I don’t-“ he blinked rapidly, suddenly not knowing how to say anything properly.

But Steve’s hand steadied him, smoothing over his curls soothingly as he made a gentle noise in the back of his throat. He could obviously sense Tony’s tension. “Hey,” he murmured gently, “hey, s’alright. We don’t have to talk about it yet. Let’s just sleep, huh? You’re real tired, sweetheart.”

 _Yet_ , Steve said. _Yet_ , like he was hoping Tony would talk later. Like he expected Tony to stay.

God. Not even on his deathbed could Tony seem to stop fucking people over. He wished that he could just tell Steve what was happening, come clean. But Steve… Steve wouldn’t want to hear it. That wouldn’t make him feel better, or more comforted. He’d only be more upset. And he’d try to help and he couldn’t, and then he’d get upset by that too, and Tony didn’t want to make this worse, he’d already fucked Steve over just by getting to know him. Telling the guy he was fucking about his terminal illness wouldn’t make anything better.

God. _Terminal illness_. It felt so weird, saying that, even in his head. Tony was still in his forties. Yeah, he had been prepared to die as Iron Man- had been more than willing to die for that cause, in fact. It would have made it all a little more fucking worthwhile, at any rate. But this? Dying slowly of heavy-metal poisoning because of nothing but his own inability to come up with a cure? That just sucked.

There had been times, in Tony’s life, when he’d been low enough that he’d wanted to die. The moments in which he’d almost gone through with it, however, had been rash and impulsive. They’d seemed like the only options to him at the time. The only way out. He hadn’t been afraid of it then.

He was now.

With a careful, shaky breath in, Tony shut his eyes and let his head drop into the pillows, sniffing as subtly as he could. Steve’s hand held firm and steady against his, tightening when Tony felt himself shake a little.

“Just sleep, Tony,” Steve whispered into his forehead, pulling the hands up and pressing a soft kiss into Tony’s knuckles, “I know you’re tired. We can sort this out in the morning. And hey-“ He smiled gently, tipping Tony’s chin up with the crook of his index finger and kissing him, feather soft. “Happy birthday.”

Tony’s eyes flicked over Steve’s shoulder, looking at the clock perched on his wall. 11:52 pm. He had 8 minutes left and he’d never see another one again.

He smiled back, nodding his head. “Yeah,” he murmured, “it actually was.”

 

 

 

 

_

 

 

 

 

They fell asleep in one another’s arms.

Well. Steve fell asleep, while Tony pretended to. He sat still and shut his eyes as Steve snuggled in against his back, tucked his knees up into Tony’s thighs and spooned him from behind. It was nice. Tony could admit, he didn’t usually like to be this enveloped when he was sleeping with bedpartners, but with Steve… it felt different. Not so much smothering, but simply comforting. Steve was ex-army and could kill a man from twenty paces, but Tony knew that Steve didn’t want to hurt a fly, not unless they were deserving of it. He was warm and his arms strong, and Tony let his fingers trail up and down the skin of Steve’s hands as the lay loose over his hips. There was a small scar, just under his ring finger from where he’d been nicked with a knife. Tony knew because he’d asked. And he’d remembered because he cared.

Against his neck, Steve snored lightly and then grunted a little, rolling onto his back and leaving one hand trapped under Tony’s midsection. Tony felt the cold rush up to meet his back and sighed. This would be the perfect time, now that Steve had moved. He should just get his things and go immediately, before he got tired himself.

Tony turned a little, rolling over so he could look back at Steve. The man slept peacefully, his hair flat against his forehead, and his naked torso displayed itself beautifully across the white of the sheets. Tony rose up to his elbow and raised his hand, letting it hover against Steve’s stomach. He shouldn’t put it down. He should get up and go. He _had to_ get up and go.

Tony shut his eyes and slumped, instead, falling gently into Steve’s side and feeling the other man mumble incoherently against his cheek, arms rising up to surround him in sleep once more.

Just five more minutes. Five more minutes, then Tony could leave.

In reality, however, it was more like two hours. Although, who the fuck was counting? Steve was asleep. He didn’t care. It wouldn’t make a difference anyway. Steve would still wake up alone, whether it was five minutes or five hours after Tony left him. If anything, it was for Tony’s own sanity that he eventually pulled up the willpower to sit up gently in bed and slide out of Steve’s arms. He knew that the longer he stayed, the harder it’d be to eventually leave.

He sat up in Steve’s soft bed, the sheets pooling at his waist and the arc reactor shining dimly over Steve’s features as Tony angled himself toward the sleeping man. He really was a work of art, that much was certain. Chiselled abs and perfect bone structure. _Massive_ dick.

 _Massive heart_ , the bastard part of his brain added, and Tony blinked and looked away, searching out his clothes on the floor of Steve’s room, scattered haphazardly all over the place. He was achy and sore, but in a nice way- a good way. Steve’s marks were all over him; finger bruises and hickeys, and Tony felt his thumb rub softly over one of the sharper ones at the bottom of his neck, next to his throat. Even when Steve was being gentle he was still rough, and Tony loved it. Although Steve would probably get all adorable and blushy if he saw them, talking about how Tony probably had meetings to attend and that he was sorry, he shouldn’t have, he just got a little carried away-

But he wouldn’t see them. So. Tony wasn’t really sure why he was imagining all that.

He picked up his shirt and quietly slipped it back over his shoulders, buttoning the expensive material up and then padding over to his slacks on Steve’s side of the bed. His shoes were at the door, and he hadn’t brought anything else.

He leaned down slowly, curling a hand over the buckle of his belt and keeping it silent as he pulled it off the floor. On the bed a foot away from him, Steve slept on peacefully.

 

In another life. In a simpler life, maybe Tony could have had him.

 

“It’s been fun, sweet-cheeks,” Tony murmured quietly, feeling the tightness clench down on his heart as he drank in Steve’s sleeping form, “gotta go now, though.”

It was a risk, and he knew if Steve woke up it’d make things a hell of a lot more awkward, but Tony couldn’t resist. He pressed his fingertips up to his own mouth and kissed them gently, before leaning forward and dropping it, feather-soft upon Steve’s smooth forehead. Steve didn’t react, of course. He was a deep sleeper, and once he was under it would take an army to wake him.

Tony smiled, and realised his cheeks were wet. This was the first time he’d had to actively say goodbye to someone.

“I’ll see you on the other side,” he breathed softly, before raising an eyebrow and shrugging to himself, “well- maybe not. You’re definitely heaven-sent, but me? Not so much.”

Steve slept on, and Tony’s mouth quirked up with the smallest of smiles. “Don’t get too maudlin when you hear about me on the news,” he said gently, smoothing out his collar and taking a deep breath, “just know that you made it better, okay? Toward the end. You made it all a little less terrible. So… thank you, for that.”

He had to go. For God’s sake, he was talking to a sleeping man who couldn’t hear a word he was saying. It was stupid. Tony was just being stupid.

With another firm nod, he stepped back and put his hand onto the door, briefly turning back to Steve as he quietly pushed it open. Steve grunted and rolled over, faceplanting into the pillows and giving a loud, single snore.

“I loved you,” Tony added, unable to help himself- hell, he would be dead in a few weeks anyway, so who the fuck cared? “Just so… uh, you know. You were- yeah. I really think I could have been good. For you. If you’d have let me.”

Silence filled the room, save for Steve’s heavy breathing, and Tony knew his time was up. He didn’t feel like going home, not just then. Maybe he’d stop off for donuts. He was dying, so calories hardly mattered, right? It’d be fun. Live like it was your last night on Earth, huh?

God, it had been two minutes and Tony already missed Steve’s touch.

He straightened his back and quietly cleared his throat, wiping his face of any wetness. Steve would wake up, realise Tony was gone, and get on with his life. As it should be. As Tony wanted it to be.

“Sweet dreams, sugar,” he murmured, looking at Steve Rogers once last time before slipping out of the bedroom door and heading for the exit.

**Author's Note:**

> I may or may not write a sequel to this where Tony finds out he is, in fact, Not Dying. But anyway, I hope you enjoyed! This idea consumed me for like 35 hours straight lol


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